Produced by David Widger
SI KLEGG
HIS TRANSFORMATION FROM A RAW RECRUIT TO A VETERAN.
By John McElroy.
Book One
[Illustration: Title page ]
[Illustration: Frontispiece ]
PUBLISHED BY
THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE CO.,
WASHINGTON, D. C
SECOND EDITION
COPYRIGHT 1910
Contents:
CHAPTER I. GOING TO WARSI KLEGG'S COMPLETE EQUIPMENT
CHAPTER II. THE DEADLY BAYONET
CHAPTER III. THE OLD CANTEEN
CHAPTER IV. THE AWFUL HARDTACK
CHAPTER V. FAT PORKINDISPENSABLE BODY TIMBER FOR PATRIOTISM
CHAPTER VI. DETAILED AS COOKSI FINDS RICE ANOTHER INNOCENT
CHAPTER VII. IN THE AWKWARD SQUAD
CHAPTER VIII. ON COMPANY DRILL
CHAPTER IX. SI GETS A LETTER
CHAPTER X. SI AND THE DOCTORS
CHAPTER XI. THE PLAGUE OF THE SOLDIER
CHAPTER XII. A WET NIGHT
CHAPTER XIII. SI "STRAGGLED"
CHAPTER XIV. SI AND THE MULES
CHAPTER XV. UNDER FIRESI HAS A FIGHT, CAPTURES A PRISONER
CHAPTER XVI. ONE OF THE "NON-COMMISH"
CHAPTER XVII. FORAGING ON THE WAY
CHAPTER XVIII. A SUNDAY OFF
CHAPTER XIX. A CLOSE CALL
CHAPTER XX. "THE SWEET SABBATH"
CHAPTER XXI. SI AND SHORTY WERE RAPIDLY LEARNING
CHAPTER XXII. A NIGHT OF SONG
PREFACE.
"Si Klegg, of the 200th Ind., and Shorty, his Partner," were born more
than 25 years ago in the brain of John McElroy, editor of The National
Tribune, who invented the names and characters, outlined the general
plan, and wrote a number of the chapters. Subsequently, the editor,
having many other important things pressing upon his attention, called
in an assistant to help on the work, and this assistant, under the
direction and guidance of the editor, wrote some of these chapters.
Subsequently, without the editor's knowledge or consent, the assistant
adopted all the material as his own, and expanded it into a book which
had a limited sale and then passed into the usual oblivion of shortlived
subscription books.
The sketches in this first number are the original ones published in The
National Tribune in 1885-6, revised and enlarged somewhat by the editor.
Those in the second and all following numbers appeared in The National
Tribune when the editor, John McElroy, resumed the story in 1897,
12 years after the first publication, and continued it for the
unprecedented period of seven years, with constantly growing interest
and popularity. They gave "Si Klegg" a nation-wide and enduring
celebrity. Gen. Lew Wallace, the foremost literary man of his day,
pronounced "Si Klegg" the "great idyll of the war."
How true they are to nature every veteran can abundantly testify from
his own service. Really, only the name of the regiment was invented.
There is no doubt that there were several men of the name of Josiah
Klegg in the Union Army, and who did valiant service for the Government.
They had experiences akin to, if not identical with, those narrated
here, and substantially every man who faithfully and bravely carried a
musket in defense of the best Government on earth had sometimes, if not
often, experiences of with those of Si Klegg, Shorty and the boys are
strong reminders.
Many of the illustrations in this first number are by the late Geo. Y.
Coffin, deceased, a talented artist, whose work embellished The National
Tribune for many years. He was the artist of The National Tribune until
his lamented and premature death, and all his military work was done
by daily consultation, instruction and direction of the editor of The
National Tribune.
THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE.
THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
TO THE RANK AND FILE
OF THE GRANDEST ARMY EVER MUSTERED FOR WAR.
SI KLEGG
CHAPTER I. GOING TO WAR--SI KLEGG'S COMPLETE EQUIPMENT
AND WHAT BECAME OF IT.
AFTER Si Klegg had finally yielded to his cumulative patriotic impulses
and enlisted in the 200th Ind. for three years or until the rebellion
was put down, with greater earnestness and solemnity to equip himself for
his new career.
He was thrifty and provident, and believed in being ready for any
emergency. His friends and family coincided with him. The Quartermaster
provided him with a wardrobe that was serviceable, if not stylish, but
there were many things that he felt he would need in addition.
"You must certainly have a few pairs of homeknit socks and some changes
of underclothes," said his tearfully-solicitous mother. "They won't
weigh much, and they'll in all likelihood save you a spell of sickness."
"Certainly," responded Josiah, "I wouldn't think of going away without
'em."
Into the capacious knapsack went several pounds of substantial knit
woolen goods.
"You can't get along without a couple of towels and a piece of soap,"
said his oldest sister, Maria, as she stowed those things alongside the
socks and underclothes.
"Si," said Ellen, his second sister, "I got this pocket album for my
gift to you. It contains all our pictures, and there is a place for
another's picture, whose name I suppose I needn't mention," she added
archly.
Si got a little red in the face, but said:
"Nothing could be nicer, Nell. It'll be the greatest comfort in the
world to have all your pictures to look at when I'm down in Dixie."
"Here's a 'housewife' I've made for you with my own hands," added
Annabel, who was some other fellow's sister. She handed him a
neatly-stitched little cloth affair. "You see, it has needles, thread,
buttons, scissors, a fine-tooth comb, and several other things that
you'll need very badly after you've been in camp awhile. And" (she got
so near Si that she could whisper the rest) "you'll find in a little
secret pocket a lock of my hair, which I cut off this morning."
"I suppose I'll have a good deal of leisure time while we're in camp,"
said Si to himself and the others; "I believe I'll just put this Ray's
Arithmetic and Greene's Grammar in."
"Yes, my young friend," added the Rev. Boanarg, who had just entered
the house, "and as you will be exposed to new and unusual temptations,
I thought it would be judicious to put this volume of 'Baxter's Call to
the Unconverted' in your knapsack, for it may give you good counsel when
you need it sorely."
"Thankee," said Si, stowing away the book. Of course, Si had to have
a hair-brush, blackingbrush, a shaving kit, and some other toilet
appliances.
[Illustration: SI DECIDES TO ENLIST 017 ]
Then it occurred to his thoughtful sister Maria that he ought to have
a good supply of stationery, including pens, a bottle of ink, and a
portfolio on which to write when he was far away from tables and desks.
These went in, accompanied by a half-pint bottle of "No. 6," which was
Si's mother's specific for all the ills that flesh is heir to. Then,
the blanket which the Quartermaster had issued seemed very light and
insufficient to be all the bed-clothes a man would have when sleeping on
the bare ground, and Si rolled up one of the warm counterpanes that had
helped make the Indiana Winter nights so comfortable for him.
"Seems rather heavy," said Si as he put his knapsack on; "but I guess
I'll get used to it in a little while. They say that soldiers learn
to carry surprising loads on their backs. It'll help cure me of being
round-shouldered; it'll be better 'n shoulder-braces for holding me up
straight."
Of course, his father couldn't let him go away without giving him
something that would contribute to his health and comfort, and at
last the old gentleman had a happy thought--he would get the village
shoemaker to make Si a pair of his best stout boots. They would be ever
so much better than the shoes the Quartermaster furnished for tramping
over the muddy roads and swamps of the South. Si fastened these on top
of his knapsack until he should need them worse than at present.
His old uncle contributed an immense bowie knife, which he thought would
be of great use in the sanguinary hand-to-hand conflicts Si would have
to wage.
On the way to the depot Si found some of his comrades gathered around
an enterprising retail dealer in hardware, who was convincing them that
they could serve their country much better, besides adding to their
comfort, by buying from him a light hatchet and a small frying-pan,
which he offered, in consideration of their being soldiers, to sell them
at remarkable low rates.
[Illustration: OFF TO THE WAR 019 ]
Si saw at once the great convenience a hatchet and a frying-pan would
be, and added them to his kit. An energetic dealer in tinware succeeded
in selling him, before he reached the depot, a cunning little coffee-pot
and an ingenious combination of knife, fork and spoon which did not
weigh more than a pound.
When he got in the cars he was chagrined to find that several of his
comrades had provided themselves with convenient articles that he had
not thought of. He consoled himself that the regiment would stop some
time in Louisville, when he would have an opportunity of making up his
deficiencies.
But when the 200th reached Louisville there was no leisure for anything.
Bragg was then running his celebrated foot-race with Buell for the
Kentucky metropolis, and the 200th Ind. was trotted as rapidly as unused
legs could carry it to the works several miles from the center of the
city.
Everybody who was in that campaign remembers how terribly hot and dry
everything was.
Si Klegg managed to keep up tolerably near the head of the column until
camp was reached, but his shoulders were strained and blisters began to
appear on his feet.
"That was a mighty tough pull, wasn't it?" he said to his chum as they
spread their blankets on the dog-kennel and made some sort of a bed;
"but I guess after a day or two we'll get so used to it that we won't
mind it."
For a few days the 200th Ind. lay in camp, but one day there came an
order for the regiment to march to Bardstown as rapidly as possible. A
battle was imminent. The roads were dusty as ash-heaps, and though the
pace was not three miles an hour, the boys' tongues were hanging out
before they were out of sight of camp.
"I say, Captain, don't they never have resting spells in the army?" said
Si.
"Not on a forced march," answered the Captain, who, having been in the
first three months' service, was regarded as a veteran. "Push on, boys;
they say that they'll want us before night." Another hour passed.
[Illustration: AS SI LOOKED WHEN HE LANDED AT LOUISVILLE 021 ]
"Captain, I don't believe you can put a pin-point anywhere on my feet
that ain't covered with a blister as big as a hen's egg," groaned Si.
"It's too bad, I know," answered the officer; "but you must go on. They
say Morgan's cavalry are in our rear shooting down every straggler they
can find."
Si saw the boys around him lightening their knapsacks. He abominated
waste above all things, but there seemed no help for it, and, reaching
into that receptacle that bore, down upon his aching shoulders like a
glacier on a groundhog, he pulled out and tossed into the fence corner
the educational works he had anticipated so much benefit from. The
bottle of "No. 6" followed, and it seemed as if the knapsack was a ton
lighter, but it yet weighed more than any stack of hay on the home farm.
A cloud of dust whirled up, and out of it appeared a galloping Aid.
"The General says that the 200th Ind. must push on much faster. The
enemy is trying to get to the bridge ahead of them," he shouted as he
dashed off in another cloud of dust.
A few shots were heard in the rear.
"Morgan's cavalry are shooting some more stragglers," shouted some one.
Si was getting desperate. He unrolled the counterpane and slashed it
into strips with his bowie. "My mother made that with her own hands," he
explained to a comrade, "and if I can't have the good of it no infernal
rebel shall. He next slashed the boots up and threw them after the
quilt, and then hobbled on to overtake the rest of his company.
"There's enough dry-goods and clothing lying along in the fence corners
to supply a good-sized town," the Lieutenant-Colonel reported as he rode
over the line of march in rear of the regiment.
The next day Si's feet felt as if there was a separate and individual
jumping toothache in every sinew, muscle, tendon and toe-nail; but that
didn't matter. With Bragg's infantry ahead and John Morgan's cavalry in
the rear, the 200th Ind. had to go forward so long as the boys could put
one foot before the other.
[Illustration: SI'S LOAD BEGINS TO GET HEAVY 023 ]
The unloading went on even more rapidly than the day before.
"My knapsack looks like an elephant had stept on it," Si said, as he
ruefully regarded it in the evening.
"Show me one in the regiment that don't," answered his comrade.
Thenceforward everything seemed to conspire to teach Si how vain and
superfluous were the things of this world. The first rain-storm soaked
his cherished album until it fell to pieces, and his sister's portfolio
did the same. He put the photographs in his blouse pocket and got along
just as well. When he wanted to write he got paper from the sutler. A
mule tramped on his fancy coffee-pot, and he found he could make quite
as good coffee in a quart-cup. A wagon-wheel lan over his cherished
frying-pan, and he melted an old canteen in two and made a lighter and
handier pan out of one-half of it. He broke his bowie-knife prying the
lid off a cracker-box. He piled his knapsack with the others one
day when the regiment was ordered to strip them off for a charge,
and neither he nor his comrades ever saw one of them again. He never
attempted to replace it. He learned to roll up an extra pair of socks
and a change of underclothing in his blanket, tie the ends of this
together and throw it over his shoulder sash fashion. Then, with his
socks drawn up over the bottoms of his pantaloons, three days' rations
in his haversack and 40 rounds in his cartridgebox, he was ready to make
his 30 miles a day in any direction he might be sent, and whip anything
that he encountered on the road.